


Grief

by seashadows



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seashadows/pseuds/seashadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skwisgaar goes to visit Toki after global events make him sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> References the 2011 bombing in Oslo.

  
  
“Toki?” Skwisgaar asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft, as he knocked on his bandmate’s door. “Toki, you okays?” This was a bad time to barge in, even if the door was unlocked, as it usually was; he wasn’t one to respect social niceties when it came to Toki, but this time was different.   
  
Silence.   
  
“You ams not deads?”   
  
Silence, again, but this time, there was a different quality to it. Skwisgaar pressed his ear against the door; it was almost as if… _there_. The covers on Toki’s bed had rustled, as though he’d been lying down and only just pushed himself into a sitting position. “Okay,” he said, more relieved than he would let on to anyone. “You’s not deads. I cans come in?”   
  
Another rustle.   
  
“Okay. I’s coming ins.” Skwisgaar turned the doorknob and swung the door open, taking a few hesitant steps into Toki’s room. The rhythm guitarist was sitting on his bed, a half-finished model in his hands – it had to be bad, then, if he wasn’t even sitting at his worktable to finish the thing. “You gonna gets paint in you’s bed.”   
  
“Mm.” Toki shrugged one shoulder, gazing down at the plane. “Don’ts cares.”   
  
“Come ons, you gots to care. You gonna sleeps in dat.” Skwisgaar moved a little closer; he wasn’t about to sit on Toki’s bed right now, not in the state he was in (he tended to be allergic to emotion at times), but being close to him might help a little. “Dis am abouts de bombs-ing, right?”   
  
Toki stiffened up, his hands trembling and tightening around the plane. “Shuts up,” he said softly. “Dis not abouts…”   
  
“I t’inks it _am_ abouts it,” Skwisgaar countered. He raised an eyebrow and stared Toki down, all but forcing the other guitarist to look him in the face. “Look. You tells anyone I says dis and you dead ins de alley somes-where, but it okays to be ups-kets. Dis you’s _country_ what gets hit wit’ de bombs.”   
  
“Nots mine anys-more,” Toki answered. He set the plane down on the floor and rested his hands, palms-up, against his thighs; they were splotched with gray and green paint. “I don’ts got no lie-alls-ty to dat place no mores. Don’ts got to.”   
  
_Don’ts got to._ If nothing else, that was a clue as to his feelings – a crack in Toki’s armor. “Sure you don’ts gots to,” Skwisgaar told him. “I don’ts got to feels not’ingsk for Swedens, but I still ups-kets if dildo jacks-off bomb de hells outta Stockholm, ah?” He _did_ sit on Toki’s bed now, albeit on the other end. It was better than seeing Toki stare up at him like the sad, big-eyed little boy he had once been.   
  
“Dey don’ts bomb not’ingsk in Stockholm.” With his head hanging down, Toki’s voice was only a whisper. “Sweden’s dildos.”   
  
“Hey. Don’ts be ins-kult-ings Sweden,” Skwisgaar warned him. It held no malice, though; he could tell that this was only a token attempt at being a dick on Toki’s part. Had he meant it, he would have looked Skwisgaar in the face. “Look,” he said, his tone quieter. “Dey gots help to those buildings real fasts, okay? The peoples what amn’st deads, dey gonna be all rights.”   
  
“ _Ja_ , I knows.” Toki’s voice quavered as he nodded, his face still pointed towards his lap. “It just…I…I scare-eds, Skwisgaar.” He shook his head. “ _Norge_ ams always de safe places, but now, what happens? Dey gonna gets my _mor?_ Bomb-es more places?”   
  
“Hey.” Skwisgaar touched him lightly on the small of his back, resting his hand there. “You’s mom amn’st getting bomb-eds. I promises. And I says it agains, it okay to feels bad about de bombingsk.”   
  
“You promises? Really?” Slowly, Toki turned his head to look at Skwisgaar from behind his hair. His eyes were bright, the dark eyelashes already dampened. “Not m-metals.”   
  
“Toki.” Skwisgaar rubbed a circle on his back, although whether it was to keep him from crying or let him know that it was okay to do so, he wasn’t sure. “It amn’st metal to bombs places, neither. Dat’s just dildos thing to do. De guy, he gonna goes to pris-kons, put aways for a long times, so nobody says he metals.”   
  
Toki nodded, his eyes briefly closing. “I guess dat if amn’st metals to b-bomb places, I can does not-metal t’ings about it.”   
  
“ _Ja._ ” Skwisgaar rubbed his back again. “Dat’s what I says. I don’ts tell no ones.”   
  
Toki didn’t speak for a long time after that, instead rocking back and forth on his bed as quiet tears dripped down to his thighs.   
  
Skwisgaar kept rubbing his back as he let out his pent-up grief. If it made him feel better, he didn’t care who saw.


End file.
